


don't wanna talk about it

by hawksonfire



Series: Kinktober 2019 [16]
Category: Marvel
Genre: Dom Steve Rogers, Dom/sub, Kinktober, M/M, Stealth suit, Sub Clint Barton, Uniforms, Wall Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-16
Updated: 2019-10-16
Packaged: 2020-12-17 18:01:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,313
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21058634
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hawksonfire/pseuds/hawksonfire
Summary: Clint likes Steve in the stealth suit. Steve notices.





	don't wanna talk about it

**Author's Note:**

  * For [BloodMooninSpace](https://archiveofourown.org/users/BloodMooninSpace/gifts).

> Kinktober Day 16 - Uniforms. hope you enjoy, dear!! (Clint's not the only one with a thing for Steve in the stealth suit))

**Clint**

The first time Clint saw Steve in the stealth suit, he nearly choked on his own tongue. As it is, he did choke on the sip of water he had just taken, and it took Steve pounding him on the back for him to get his breath back. Despite what people say about Steve, he’s not a complete idiot, so when they got back to his rooms after the mission that night and Clint nearly went feral trying to get himself fucked, he knew that Steve was beginning to catch on.

“You like the suit, huh?” Steve asks, smirking.

“Shut up, asshole,” Clint mutters, arm thrown over his eyes. “Yes, I like the suit. Can we not talk about it, please?”

“Sure,” Steve agrees easily - too easily - and he plops a kiss on Clint’s cheek, then rolls out of bed and heads towards the shower. Naively, Clint believes that’s the end of it. 

He’s wrong.

~~

The next time Clint sees Steve wearing the suit, it’s in their living room, Steve’s sprawled out on the couch, and Clint’s just come back from dropping Lucky off with Kate for the weekend, as per Steve’s request. “Steve, babe, I’m home from dropping -” He stops dead in the doorway, keys dangling from his hand as he drinks in the sight that is Captain America sitting on his couch.

“Drop.” Clint’s knees hit the floor with a _ thud _ before he’s even really processed the order, and he’s mostly too turned on to be embarrassed, but now the issue is that he is too far from Steve to do anything or have anything done to him, and oh- that whimpering noise _ is _ him. “Come here.” There’s no room in Steve’s tone for argument, but Clint still hesitates before moving. Immediately, Steve’s face softens and he sits up. “Darling, what’s wrong?”

It’s hard, but - “No crawling,” Clint bites out, and he really hopes Steve doesn’t want to ask why because he really doesn’t want to get into the fucked up thing he had with one of the tight rope walkers when he was in the Circus which was probably illegal, _ definitely _ unsafe and absolutely a bad memory.

“Of course,” Steve agrees immediately, no questions asked because he’s great like that. “You can walk to me, darlin’, but can you go back down after that?” Clint nods wordlessly and walks over to Steve, sinking down onto his knees between Steve’s legs and looking up at him with what is probably a far too revealing look on his face. “Perfect,” Steve murmurs, caressing Clint’s face in his massive hand. 

Steve’s always radiated heat, something about the serum makes him run warmer than most people, and Clint’s never appreciated it more than he does right now, when the heat of Steve’s hand seems to burn through his face and warm his whole body. He leans into Steve’s hand with a whine, eyes drifting shut. 

“Always so good for me,” Steve says quietly, and Clint shudders, pushing his face further into Steve’s hand. “What’s your opinion on me fucking you against the wall?” Steve asks idly, like Clint’s opinion actually has a say in his final decision - it does, obviously, if Clint says no then Steve won’t, but considering they’ve done it before and Steve _ knows _ Clint loves it... There’s something about the _ way _ he says it that sends a spark up Clint’s spine. 

“Please,” Clint half-groans, already wanting to push a hand into his crotch to relieve some pressure, but knowing that if he does Steve will take it away. Besides, he _ wants _ to be good for Steve, so he can wait. 

“Up,” Steve says, and Clint scrambles up, somehow managing to stand up without hitting his head on anything. “Strip,” Steve says. “Slowly,” he adds when Clint starts to yank off his shirt, “I want to enjoy the show.”

Clint does as he’s told, no matter the bright flush of embarrassment going down his chest at being put on display like this, and before too long he’s naked in front of Steve, chest heaving and dick already leaking, hard and bobbing in front of him. “Please,” He whines, barely even knowing what he’s asking for. 

“I haven’t even touched you yet,” Steve says, a smile tugging at his lips, but then he stands up, somehow managing to tower over Clint despite the three inches that Clint has on him, grabs him by the hips and hoists him up until Clint gets the idea and locks his ankles around Steve’s waist and his arms around his neck. Steve takes four steps across the living room and Clint’s back hits the wall with a thump, knocking a groan out of him. 

“Steve, _ please_,” Clint begs, already grinding down on the faint bulge he can feel in Steve’s pants. 

“Impatient,” Steve scolds, but he releases Clint, letting him hold himself up, and pulls a little packet of lube out of his utility belt, slicking up his fingers and probing at Clint’s hole with little ceremony. “Relax, darlin’,” he says softly, and Clint blows out a breath before consciously relaxing his body and letting Steve in. 

“_Fuck_,” he sighs, body immediately accepting Steve’s finger. 

“You’re practically sucking me in,” Steve murmurs, and when Clint manages to drag his eyes open, Steve’s eyes are glued to where he’s pumping his hand in and out of Clint. He slides another finger in, the stretch burning slightly. Steve goes slow enough that it’s more of a pleasant burn than anything actually painful, and eventually Clint is up to four fingers, babbling nonsense.

“Steve, please, I need - I need your cock, please, Steve,” Clint begs, breath hitching into a sob as Steve purposefully just _ barely _ brushes against his prostate for the fifth time in a minute.

“You ask so pretty, darlin’, how can I say no?” Steve croons, and then he unzips the crotch of his suit, fishes his dick out and slides into Clint without taking anything else off. “Fuck,” he groans, freezing in place and biting his lip. 

Normally, Clint would take pride in his ability to have Steve on the brink just from being inside him, but Steve’s kept _ him _ on the brink for the entire time he was opening him up, not touching his cock once, and Clint’s so ready for it he nearly cries when Steve bottoms out. “Steve, _ move_,” he says breathily, and it’s just whiny enough that it’s not a command, but Steve still give him a look before pulling out slowly and then slamming back in. 

“This what you wanted?” He growls, pounding into Clint. “Me to fuck you against the wall in my suit?”

“Yes, god, yes, _ Steve _!” Clint cries out, sure that he’s going to have bruises on his hips and back from Steve’s hands and the wall and not even caring. Steve growls filth in his ear, his voice deep and rumbly, and when Clint shoots off, untouched, with a shout, painting the star on Steve’s stealth suit white with his come, Steve’s not far behind him. 

Steve thrusts into him, snarling, and comes with a punched out groan, and once he’s done, he leans against the wall, only his strength and the wall at Clint’s back keeping him up. “Christ,” he says when he gets his breath back, “You really like the suit.”

“Yeah, no shit genius,” Clint snarks, panting. “You wanna clean us up now? I think your jizz is gonna glue me to the wall.”

Steve snickers, and when Clint raises an eyebrow at him, explains, “Homemade super soldier super-glue,” and Clint starts to laugh as well.

“It’ll never dry up,” he adds, and that sets off a new round of snickers, and that’s how they spend the next ten minutes - coming up with increasingly shitty jokes about uses for Steve’s come, giggling against the wall like a pair of idiots. Clint’s never been happier.

**Author's Note:**

> follow me on the [ tumbles](%E2%80%9Ccandycanedarcy.tumblr.com%E2%80%9D)
> 
> follow me on the [ tweets](%E2%80%9Ctwitter.com/candycanedarcy%E2%80%9D)


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